A New Era
by neveraworsename
Summary: Hermione Granger is a person just like the rest of us. The only difference being, the rest of us didn't start a rebellion and bring the world crashing to its knees. Eventual femslash
1. Chapter 1

Title: A New Era

Author: The Best Name On The Site

Fandom: Harry Potter Series

Pairing: Hermion/?

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Summary: Hermione Granger is a person just like the rest of us. The only difference being, the rest of us didn't start a rebellion and bring the world crashing to its knees. Eventual femslash

Chapter 1

**A Meeting With The Woman **

**Who Changed Her Destiny **

**By Hezekiah Feininger **

Hermione Granger, leader of the Mudblood rebellion of '96, the usurper of the ministry of magic, and the defeater of Voldemort doesn't look like she's done all that. She doesn't look like the most powerful person in whatever room she steps into. She's a little on the lanky side and dresses comfortably, in Muggle jeans and shirts. She walks around barefoot, as silent as any cat, and moreso than the fat orange tom, the infamous Crookshanks, and the tabby he's chosen as a mate. This girl doesn't even feel out of her teens, just as young as any one else. For the most part there is nothing remarkable about her until she starts to speak.

Her voice is charismatic. It is low, it is soft, it is praise-worthy and when she laughs, it makes me feel as if I have accomplished something important today. It is nothing like the young girl at Johnson's Public school who ate lunch by herself and stuttered when she had to speak. She is confident now, bright, someone people would die for, had died for. Her very presence was stunning and it makes me wonder where that young girl who ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by herself went.

I want to peer into her eyes and ask, "Where are you hiding, little girl?" I'm to afraid of what might happen to do it.

I am here because I am safe; a fellow Israeli, someone she once knew, someone that is not on her list to die unlike the people that span the globe, hiding from her surprisingly dainty fist. It is hard to remember some days that the world is so small, that I am just a man with a pen and paper. It's harder to believe that she doesn't even need that for recognition.

Her living room is very neat but homey. Soothing colours, soft accents; it smells like whiskey and sex. There are no pictures but art, most likely by someone obscure and Muggle. It's an impressive piece; there are shadows around a young woman, stalking her, dragging her down, and her head is tilted up, mouth open in a scream. I can hear her second-in-commands, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, and Padma Patil moving upstairs, the sound of shoes and the scrape of chairs on wood. There's a muffled laugh somewhere else in the house; probably Dean Thomas and Tracy Davis, her fellow tacticians.

She's sitting in a beanbag chair and there's a hot cuppa in her hands and mine. It's the perfect blend of sweetness and aromatic. She sips slowly, her eyes on the amber liquid within, just a shade lighter than her inquisitive orbs with lashes long enough for me to see from here, and asks, "Do you like the tea, Hezekiah?"

I smile slightly, "It is perfect, Hermione. They don't make it like this in Israel."

She shifts in her seat, "So, old friend, tell me what you're doing here? You told me you were staying in Israel, living out your youth."

I laughed, "Don't make me sound so old, dear heart. I'm only five years older than you." I drank more of my tea, "I'm here because the rest of the world's clamouring for your attention and they figured for the first official interview, I would be the least likely thrown out on my arse."

She smiled guiltily, "Well, you are a sight for sore eyes. But I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place for answers. I can only tell you about the end, not how everyone saw me or how I did it; the good bits you'll want."

I asked her, "Where do I start?"

Hermione though, sipping the last of her tea, "My parents are a good start."

We finish it up and she takes the cup from me, going to the kitchen. I follow her. The entire house is neat but homey, and we pass a room with girls in it. One of them, about ten, jumps up and runs to hug Hermione around her waist.

She ruffles the girl's hair, saying, "There were so many children left after the war, I just thought to help where I could. I caused enough of them." We continue outside to the front door. We shake hands as I leave to start at the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: A New Era

Author: The Best Name On The Site

Fandom: Harry Potter Series

Pairing: Hermione/?

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Summary: Hermione Granger is a person just like the rest of us. The only difference being, the rest of us didn't start a rebellion and bring the world crashing to its knees. Eventual femslash

Chapter 2

**A Meeting With The People**

**That Caused The Most Feared**

**Woman In The World **

**By Hezekiah Feininger **

The Grangers' are a perfectly average looking couple. There is nothing deadly or scary about them, unless of course you have a fear of dentists, but they are harmless. The same age with matching graying hair, they look more like Hermione's grandparents than her parents, but as they hug me and kiss my cheeks, they are the same people whose child I watched at every conference and lost at Scrabble too. They should be lucky I took the place of chew toy for them for no extra cost; what child knows what a googol was?

They invite me to their parlour. It is a comfortable, but purely aesthetic. It is there for no purpose but to serve tea to people like me. I always wondered why this and the office were off-limits to Hermione who lived here by herself for the most part and now I know. I wish it had remained a secret. All the pretty things are locked up here, as if she wasn't good enough to see them, let alone hold them. I pity the little girl that used to live here.

Mr. Granger and I sit across from one another, Mrs. Granger occupying a small couch. He clears his throat, "So, Hezekiah, what brings you here?"

I smile at them, trying to set them at ease, "You remember how I wanted to be a journalist in Israel, right?"

They nodded, and I continued, "I have the job but I need to do an interview with you two first."

Mr. Granger blinks at me but Mrs. Granger says, "It's about Herm- her, isn't it?"

I nod, "Yes, it is. I need to go over her early years, do a biography on her from her birth until now. I tried to leave you out of this, but, as you know, when she can be stubborn-"

"She can be stubborn," Mr. Granger chuckles sadly. He wipes his face, his wife's hands tremble on her teacup, rattling against the saucer. It lends atmosphere for the moment.

He sighs, but Mrs. Granger is the one who speaks, "She was a very easy pregnancy. I didn't start showing until I was about six months along, my back wasn't hurting, I wasn't really craving anything but syrup. It was like I wasn't pregnant, but the ultrasounds showed her. She was an easier baby. Cried only for the essentials and didn't need extra attention or anything."

Mrs. Granger trails off, looking at the floor and Mr. Granger picks up, "Then she went to school. Always a little wall-flower, stayed out of trouble until fifth form, before she got into a fight with that Carter boy. From what I remember, he was picking on another girl and Hermione attacked him."

Mrs. Granger snaps, "She was projecting herself in the place of the little girl. You were the one that didn't go to the counselor meetings."

"I work! What do you want me to do; give everything up so some idiot can say I raised my child wrong?"

Her accusation is loud, "I needed you to be there for us!"

He shouts back, "You needed clothes, shoes, a roof over your heads! You can't be poor and satisfied with your life, Margaret. You weren't before and you wouldn't be now."

This must be old hat because she simply sighs and replies, "We didn't raise her at all. That bloody school and those bleeding books did. All the time, all day long; 'Mummy, mummy, my maths book shows how to do quadratic equations. Mummy, I know how to create a fire with base elements. Mummy, don't use colloquialisms in speech with your boss. Mummy, when's Daddy coming home, I figured out how to regrow teeth today.' And then she went to that, that place and suddenly it was; 'Mum, I'm top in my class for transfigurations. I know how to make someone kill themselves. I know how to commit mass-murder and for no one to ever know. I know you don't love me.'"

She starts to sob, drinking her tea again. It slurps, loud in the silence left by her words. I can feel the edge of the chair digging into my legs but I don't move. If I was interested in TV or fiction, this would be gold, but I'm not.

Mr. Granger cleared his throat again, "Scratch that out. Put this: We were busy, she found books, no one was there to watch her. She learned new things, things people didn't want her to know about your ministry. Wasn't going to stand for it and she went and did something about it. You need to know anything else, go to that damn school and find it out." He glanced at me, and I suddenly find that his eyes are as sharp as Hermione's as he says, "End transmission."


End file.
